


Chapter One: Sabotage

by CavalierConvoy



Series: MTMTE Series One: Shoot Straight with a Crooked Gun [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers Generation Two, Transformers: Beast Machines, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Bromance, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Heist, Investigations, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:37:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3156083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavalierConvoy/pseuds/CavalierConvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two drunks plot a way to get the one guy with the engex stile to secure free drinks, only to be hailed by their paranoid superiour officer to aid an investigation involving one of Brainstorm's experiments. What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter One: Sabotage

**Author's Note:**

> Time Frame: Between the "Primus: You, Me, and Other Revelations" and "Who's Afraid of the D.J.D.?"
> 
> Notes: Because of the challenge from Warlord Enfilade for me to draw [Raiders of the Lost Light](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/1324259/lostlight.jpg), which then prompted some test scenes and, the next thing I know, I'm writing fanfiction again. 
> 
> All your fault, Fil.

Chapter One: Sabotage

 

But make no mistakes and switch up my channel  
I'm buddy rich when I fly off the handle  
What could it be, it's a mirage  
You're scheming on a thing - that's sabotage

—["Sabotage"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H4PN7Xbexq4) by Beastie Boys, from _Ill Communication_

 

 _Lost Light_  
Exact Location: Unknown  
Now

 

"Why do you keep talking me into these situations?"

Artemis granted Trailcutter a wide smirk before handing him her flask. "Because I'm an enabler."

"No, I'm an enabler," he chortled, taking the proffered flask and taking a swig before handing it back. "You come up with the ideas, and I tell you what a brilliant plan it is, only to find out halfway through we're going to get shot at, or caught, or needing to break out of impound, because someone — not pointing fingers or anything — forgot one crucial detail. Or involved Whirl."

"My plans involving Whirl do not fail." She shrugged. "Usually."

"Art," Trailcutter draped an arm over her shoulders, bringing his face close to hers. His breath was one-hundred proof, delicious; had she been attracted to him in any other way other than platonic, she would have proposed conjunx right there and then. But while she might entertain a brief thought, she preferred to keep this particular relationship brotherly. "May I remind you the time where you asked us to help test out those so-called EMP rounds?"

"That wasn't my idea," she corrected him, looping her own arm around his.

"I'm sorry, but any time Brainstorm comes up to you and says, 'Wanna try out some new ammo?' You're sold by him approaching you. Which means Whirl's there, inviting himself to the party, to which it almost always guarantees a recipe for something going boom and we end up on the receiving end of Ratchet's charming bedside manner."

"And that is why I ask you to come along, to be our moral compass," Artemis grinned, taking a swig from the flask.

They had never crossed paths until the Lost Light. He had been part of Optimus's crew; she ran with Rodimus. They had missed one another on Earth by a decade or so. Their official meeting had been drying out in the same cell on the second sol out on the journey; there was a connection, as though finding a brother after millennia of separation. The drinking started the bond after a round of storytelling, but it evolved; both had a taste for reading biographies and history, and they talked Sherma and Thompson over shots, watched cinema over lagers, at least until their other friends joined them.

"'Moral compass', eh?" He cupped his chin, gazing skyward. "Is that how you think of me?"

"Seeing that my conscience has given up on me, I rely on you to keep me from doing something stupid."

"Which is usually preempted by Whirl going, 'hey, boss, let's do something really stupid!', which then it's your turn to be the voice of reason."

"There's a scary thought," Artemis smirked. "So what's the occasion of heading me off at the pass?"

Trailcutter revealed what was in his other hand: a thirty-pack of V7 engex lager. "I was thinking of moving the party to the reservoir. Percy posted on the public forum about how our current path would give us a spectacular view of the galaxy hub, including a few solar disks and a supernovae or two."

"Anyone else joining us?"

"Likely Chromedome and Rewind; Tailgate, possibly. Skids expressed some interest, and if Percy's showing up, Brainstorm may make a dramatic appearance and claim it just passing by. Drift waxed into poetry on the forum regarding it, so I wouldn't be surprised if he turned up. Magnus complained about using the ship's forum for non-essential discussions, and Cav and Rod went into sticker wars soon after." Trailcutter made a face, the expression Whirl classified as force field." "You know, I think half the time Magnus acts like that just to see how we would react."

"He's got a subtle sense of humour; blink and you miss it. But to answer your question, yeah, I like astronomical events involving drinking. Hell, I like most activities involving drinking. But I think you're trying to distract me from the initial reason why I asked you to join me."

He chuckled, a rumble deep within his chest, as he bowed his head, shaking it. "Primus below, Art, I can't get a break with you, can I?"

She darted around him, taking the case from him and handing him her flask once more. "It's an idea I've been hashing out for a while now, and for me to pull this off, I need someone I can trust. And by 'trust,' I mean someone who won't pick a fight with the locals for the worst reasons."

"Thus ruling out Sunstreaker and Whirl," Trailcutter interjected.

"And until we can convince Magnus to sign off the red tape to let Swerve officially open his bar, we've got to 'negotiate' for the supplies for him to brew his engex. And because we know how great Swerve is with holding his cards close to his chest —"

"Is it true you snarked your way out of a Legion brig?"

"Yes, but you're changing the subject. What I'm asking from you is —"

Trailcutter held up a hand. "Okay, first question: is what you're planning illegal to any governing body other than Magnus?"

"In theory, no."

"How about in practice?"

"I've got channels throughout the Arm. Some of them may be a wee bit south of the grey area. In those cases, I do have some wiggle room with their laws. The advantage of being affiliated with a Sirian clan: political play. A lot of the governments — the Galactic Alliance included — owes Sirian corporations, whether for military, agricultural, financial ... you get the idea. See this?" She flipped the palm of her left hand, exposing the etched black spiral on her palm. "You don't know how many times flashing this alone got me out of trouble. So the legality of things? Leave that to me."

"This is why Magnus picks his battles with you, whereas everyone gets thrown into the brig for a crooked badge."

"I'd like to think it's for other reasons, but you're probably right." She shrugged. "He doesn't think too highly of Sirian legal loopholes."

"So you need a wingmate, in other words."

"I'll let you in on a little secret," Artemis tapped the side of her nose. "The times I go alone, I get into trouble. Big time. Learnt the hard way. Problem is, I don't trust easily. Burned too many times in the past. I'd trust Whirl on my back in a bullet storm, but negotiating prices of distilled energon? Transport of supplies? Talking a situation down if a questionable sort pulls a gun on us?"

"For the greater good, right?"

"The greater good," she agreed. "The bar's a good idea — good for morale, good for information, good for the ship. And good for the ship's coffers. Healthy coffers means a healthy ship."

"Is Swerve in on this plan?"

"Unlike Swerve, I play my cards close. Curry a favour for him, and we get free drinks. Figured a good way to say, 'Hey! We want to help you out!'"

"I see what you did there," Trailcutter pointed a finger at her nose. "This isn't a completely selfless plan after all."

"Benefits all the parties involved: ship as a governing body, the establishment, and the consumers, and the suppliers. Win-win."

"And here I was led to believe that Wreckers had no business sense."

"Well, that and I'm going Junkion-slag crazy with routine. Tabling that for another time; heard it through the pipeline that we've got a planetfall mission within two sols — sounds like the locals needing help with a 'Con infestation — "

"Pest control! Our speciality!"

"Problem is, there may be hostages; the local government reports missing citizens. Magnus, as I understand it, is investigating the situation."

"Which may explain why Whirl ramped up 'poke the Sharkticon' with Cyclonus today."

Artemis groaned, shoulders slumping. "Slaggit. He's going to get himself killed and then what am I going to do when I need a bullet storm cover? All right, Optimist Prime, you always find the good in everyone. What's Whirl's saving grace?"

"He takes a licking and keeps on ticking?"

Artemis coughed a laugh. "You do know where that expression comes from, right?"

"Yeah, I heard it from an Earth advert for—oh." Trailcutter's expression crumbled. "I'm a horrible person."

"I'm certain he'd appreciate the irony — after he tore apart your hab suite."

"Please don't tell him I said that!"

"No worries — we'd have to explain the entire back story for him to get it. But seriously, I'm not counting that. I want you to find the one good thing about Whirl, because sometimes I even wonder why I let him follow me around."

"I think," Trailcutter swigged the flask, but did not return it just yet, "that he is, deep down, a kind person, but he's afraid to show it, or else he feels vulnerable. He pushes people away not because he hates them, like he tells us, but because he's afraid of hurting them, disappointing them. He'd had to do some horrible things in the past, and now it's all he knows, and he plays it up to build that wall around him. But I have seen his goodness poke through. He's not evil...and you've seen it, too, or else you wouldn't tolerate him like you do."

"Or he really is a gashole," Artemis nodded. "But good call; there's few people I'd trust covering my aft in a fire fight. Surprisingly to most, Whirl's one of them."

"Another one of my observations," Trailcutter, once again, draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close, "you don't treat him like an escaped criminal. I think that's why he's more loyal to you than to most others."

Artemis grew silent, pensive, as she slipped the flask from his fingers.

"What's on your mind?" Trailcutter questioned.

"Max," she studied the scarred metal before tipping back. "I've had triggers before, but what he went through...to break down that hard...Primus, I don't even want to begin to contemplate that sort of hell. And...I dodged a bullet." She composed herself, holding out her flask. "I think about Springer lately. Roadbuster, too. Why didn't they reach out for the vets? They took rookies to Garrus-9. They should have never taken rookies."

"Can't answer that, Art," he admitted. "Wasn't there — and I'm not a Wrecker. Maybe Magnus can?"

"All I know about his involvement is that he had to pull out of the operation; plausible deniability. They weren't supposed to go anywhere near G-9 in the first place. Survivors' guilt, I guess."

"Wanna know a secret? Not really a secret — Skids kinda got the brunt of my griping about it, but...before he had his episode at Swerve's, I was going on about how I was envious of Max."

"Why, 'cause he's a mobile fortress?"

"I mean, who needs guns on his legs?"

"A mobile fortress in charge of a maximum-security prison planet?"

"See?" Trailcutter's face broke into a grin. "That's why I like you — you have all the answers!"

"No, I just have all the sarcasm."

"And the bottomless flask. Primus, Art, how do you keep that filled?"

"There are sols where I wonder the same thing. Half the time I wonder if it's a placebo."

"Mind over matter."

"Or just a delusional mind."

_"Artemis, Trailcutter, are you two sober enough to help me out?"_

"Nope," Trailcutter snickered as Artemis answered the hail. "We're sober enough; what's up, Red?"

 _"We have a situation Shuttle Bay Eleven; I could use a hand."_ Red Alert's tone was even, controlled.

"We'll be right down," Artemis agreed, cutting transmission. To Trailcutter, she flicked her thumb, indicating down the corridor. "We can stash the lager in one of the holds; Red's pretty collected, meaning he isn't in paranoia mode, so I don't think it'll take too long."

"Shuttle Bay Eleven? Isn't that where Brainstorm usually — "

" — tests weapons? Absolutely. Probably the reason why Red wants us there."

"Wants you there. I only get involved whenever you talk me into these situations."

"And we're back at square one."

He shrugged with a big grin. "Gotta admit, you do liven up a situation."

 

 **Next Chapter:**   _Twenty Ways to Kill Someone_


End file.
